#ano writes stuff

“I, uh, I’m gonna go use your bathroom.”

 “Sure.” Derek looked up at him as Stiles stood and shook out his limbs. “First door on the left back the hallway.”

Stiles nodded and made his way inside, easily finding the bathroom in spite of his bleary eyes. When he was done, he splashed some water on his face and rubbed at his cheeks with his wet hands, but it did little to make him feel more awake. With a long sigh, he dried his face and walked out into the hallway.

He hadn’t exactly planned on snooping around Derek’s house, but the door to the room across the hall from the bathroom was open, and Stiles caught a glimpse of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Curious, he leaned into the room, and with the faint light coming from the hallway, he could see that the shelves took up an entire wall. There were already countless books on the shelves, as well as a couple of framed photos and some assorted odds and ends that Stiles couldn’t quite make out. Various boxes sat on the floor nearby, presumably full of the books that Derek hadn’t yet unpacked.

Stiles pushed away the urge to turn on the light and browse Derek’s book collection, instead letting his gaze drift around the rest of the room. There was a desk and laptop computer, as well as a filing cabinet. And tucked against the wall opposite the one with the bookshelves was a large, very cushy-looking sofa.

He tried to force himself to walk away, to go back out and socialize with the friends he hadn’t seen in years. But Stiles was way beyond exhausted, and the sofa looked so inviting, hidden in the silence and darkness, long enough for him to stretch out on, with big throw pillows that – no.

Even as he tried to talk himself out of it, Stiles drifted toward the sofa. Maybe he could just sit there for a few minutes and relax in peace before going back out to face everyone. He could also go crash in Derek’s guest room instead, but he had no idea how many there were, or if Derek had invited anyone else to stay, as he’d done with Stiles when he’d texted about the get-together.

Had Derek invited anyone else? Were they all staying at the nearest motel? He thought he remembered Scott mentioning something about a room in town. What about Cora, though? She was family. Or Jackson and Isaac. Wouldn’t Derek want them close?

Stiles fell back onto the sofa, heels of his hands pressed against his eyes, and…oh.

It was just as comfortable as it looked, if not more. There was no way he was getting up anytime soon.

He was vaguely aware of kicking off his shoes and pulling his feet up on the sofa, his head sinking into one of those plush throw pillows, and then nothing.

-------------

Sometime during the night, a low, soothing voice pulled Stiles back to the edges of wakefulness, but only barely. He opened his eyes just far enough to make out Derek kneeling in front of him, hand resting on Stiles’ shoulder.

“You’re welcome to stay on the sofa all night,” Derek murmured, thumb stroking over the thin fabric of Stiles’ shirt. “If you change your mind and want to switch to a bed, the room on the left at the end of the hall is made up for you.”

“Mmmkaythanks.” His muzzy brain wouldn’t let him get out anything more coherent, but Derek gave him a smile and stood, so it must have been enough. Stiles allowed his eyes to fall shut again, and he was almost so far gone that he missed it – the feeling of lips brushing across his forehead.

He wanted to stop Derek and ask him if it really happened and what it meant, if it meant anything at all.

In the morning.

-------------

Stiles awoke to sunlight streaming in through the blinds at the back of the room, illuminating everything in a soft white glow. He blinked a few times as he took stock of how he was feeling. There was a slight twinge in his lower back, but nothing that couldn’t be stretched away, and he could really use a shower.

Most importantly, he felt well-rested for the first time in weeks.

He slipped across the hall into the bathroom, where a towel and washcloth were already waiting for him on the vanity, Derek’s familiar scrawl on the note next to them.

Your bag’s in the guest room. Breakfast will be ready when you are. - D

For some reason, that personal touch left Stiles feeling warm and a little giddy. He found the guest room and grabbed his toothbrush and a change of clothes before heading back to shower.

Stiles was halfway through his shower, trying not to feel weird about using Derek’s shampoo and body wash, when it came back to him.

A hand on his shoulder. A fond smile. Lips on his forehead.

Fuck.

Stiles finished showering as quickly as he could, then dried off and got dressed, his mind reeling. Had those things really happened during the night, or had his sleep-deprived brain concocted it all? He had no reason to believe it hadn’t been real. After all, he’d remembered the directions to the guest room, and Derek had been sweet to him the entire evening.

But still, kissing him? Okay, so it wasn’t on the lips, but it was somewhere on his face, so it counted as something in Stiles’ book.

As he headed down the hallway, Stiles could hear noises from the kitchen, and the unmistakable smell of bacon made his mouth water. He stopped just out of view of the kitchen, though, still debating over whether he should wait for Derek to bring it up or come right out and ask.

“Stiles?” Derek stepped into view at the end of the hallway, spatula in hand. He was wearing only a faded blue t-shirt and thin black lounge pants, and seeing him immediately put Stiles as ease. “Hey.”

“Hey. Smells great out here.” Stiles followed Derek back to the kitchen and sat down at the small breakfast bar.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure what you might want.” Derek glanced over his shoulder as he spoke, then turned his attention back to the stove, where he was melting butter in a frying pan. He looked totally comfortable in the kitchen, something that surprised Stiles, though he couldn’t put his finger on why. “I know you love bacon, so there’s bacon. I’ve got stuff ready for omelets, or if you’d rather have pancakes, I can get some batter going.”

Stiles had to force himself not to gape. It wasn’t like he hadn’t realized that Derek had changed. That had been more than obvious from the moment Stiles arrived. But this Derek was moving around the kitchen like he belonged there and was making him breakfast, offering him choices, even. This Derek was at home, settled, no longer on the run. The realization soothed something deep inside Stiles.

“Um, omelets sound perfect,” he finally answered. “I love pancakes, but I usually eat so many that I get sleepy again, so I save them for lazy days.”

Derek turned and gave him that same soft smile he’d seen more than once the previous day. “My grandma used to call that being logy.”

The casual mention of one of Derek’s family members caught Stiles off-guard, but he recovered quickly enough to keep the conversation going. “I didn’t think it would affect werewolves, you know, because of the metabolism.”

“No,” Derek said as he grabbed a plate of various chopped vegetables from the counter, “my human grandma.” And then, as if he hadn’t just casually slipped a family anecdote into the conversation, he held the plate out to Stiles. “What do you want in your omelet?”

“I – uh, a little of everything.” He didn’t want to push, but the fact that Derek readily shared the grandma thing made Stiles feel comfortable enough to ask. “So your grandma was human?”

“The one on my dad’s side, yeah.” Derek sprinkled some black pepper and dill into the eggs he was beating in a bowl, throwing glances over his shoulder at Stiles as he spoke. “Mom’s mom was a wolf.

“Nice.” Stiles rubs a thumb over the marble countertop. “Both of my grandmothers were human.”

Derek hummed in assent as he poured the egg mixture into the pan. “As far as you know, anyway.”

“That’s a valid point. I didn’t even know about werewolves until I was sixteen.”

Derek acknowledged that with a tilt of his head, but said nothing. They lapsed into silence until the food was done, then wasted no time digging in.

“This is great,” Stiles said, honestly impressed with Derek’s cooking. He’d never seen Derek cook back in their earlier years, but then again, he hadn’t seen Derek do much of anything that could be considered domestic back when they first knew each other. Things had changed so much since then, mostly for the better.

Derek nodded his thanks as he took a sip of coffee. “You want anything else with it? Toast, English muffin?”

“No, I’m good. Thanks, though.” He bit into a slice of bacon, crispy and perfect, and groaned in appreciation. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

“When I was a kid, I used to like to get up early in the morning to go running. I’d get back and shower, and Mom would be making breakfast. She’d always let me help with something. It was kind of our thing, I guess.”

When Stiles glanced up from his plate, Derek was looking right at him, a small smile on his face. Stiles returned it, and Derek ducked his head, though not quite quickly enough to hide his widening grin. It warmed something in Stiles, seeing Derek happy, seeing him comfortable enough to talk about his family so openly. He still wanted to ask about the night before, but he wasn’t sure how Derek would react, and he didn’t want to risk ruining the moment.

It wasn’t until they were finished eating and were lingering at the breakfast bar over their second cups of coffee that Stiles finally took the chance.

“So, uh, last night, when you woke me up –”

“I meant it,” Derek blurted, a flush already starting high on his cheekbones.

“When you kissed me?” At Derek’s nod, Stiles grinned. “Oh good, so I wasn’t imagining it?”

“No, I…” Derek trailed off and tapped his finger against the rim of his mug. “I was planning on telling you yesterday. How I f– ” He cut himself off, but Stiles already knew the rest of the sentence. How I feel about you. “God, I’m bad at this.” He huffed out a sheepish laugh and shook his head.

Without really thinking about it, Stiles reached across and wrapped his fingers around Derek’s. He gave him a reassuring smile, and Derek returned it.

“I didn’t realize you’d be so tired when you got here. I couldn’t…I couldn’t lay all of that on you when you looked like you were barely functioning.”

“Hey, now,” Stiles teased, and Derek laughed.

“You were asleep on your feet, Stiles, come on.” Derek’s expression softened. “It would’ve felt like I was taking advantage of you. And then when I found you in the study, you just looked so peaceful that I didn’t even want to wake you at all.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

“Well, I’m awake now.”

“You are.”

“And since the bacon didn’t bring anyone else out for breakfast, I’m guessing we’re alone.”

Derek nodded, giving Stiles’ fingers a squeeze. “Everyone else is at a hotel in Redding.”

“Good to know.” Stiles slipped off the stool and walked around the bar. Derek turned to meet him, spreading his knees far enough for Stiles to step in between them. “So if I’d been more awake last night – you know, like I am now – what else would you have done?”

Derek just watched him for a long moment, and Stiles held that gaze, hoping he was doing enough to convey that he was okay with whatever Derek wanted. Derek’s hands ran down Stiles’ sides before coming to rest on his hips, and his eyes searched Stiles’ face.

“You’re sure?”

“Oh, you’d better believe I am.”

Almost before the words were out of Stiles’ mouth, Derek leaned in to kiss him. It was soft, gentle, fitting for the man Derek had become since they’d last spent time together. Stiles brought a hand up to Derek’s neck, thumb stroking over his jaw. Derek let out a little moan, his mouth opening, and Stiles deepened the kiss.

They made out for countless minutes, and though Derek was definitely into it if the moaning was anything to go by, he didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to move things along. Not that Stiles minded. Kissing Derek was so much better than he ever could have imagined – and when he had imagined it, it had been pretty damn hot.

When they finally came up for air, Derek dropped his forehead to Stiles’ shoulder, chuckling softly.

“What’s so funny?” Stiles managed to ask after a few deep breaths.

“You’re even better at that than I thought you’d be. Surprised me.”

Stiles opened his mouth to defend himself, then shut it again as the implication behind those words dawned on him.

“You…you mean you’ve thought about this?”

Derek put his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, pushing him away just far enough to look into his eyes. “I’ve thought about this a lot,” he replied with a grin.

“Really?” Stiles couldn’t help smirking at him. “What else have you thought about?”

Derek slipped off the stool, his body sliding against Stiles’ in a way that made Stiles shiver. He wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist and leaned in to mouth at his neck.

“All sorts of things,” he breathed against Stiles’ damp skin. “Why don’t we take this somewhere a little more comfortable, and I’ll show you a few of them.”

In the end, they didn’t make it any farther than the sofa in Derek’s living room – which, as Stiles was delighted to discover, was just as amazing as the one in the study.

He struggled to keep his pace steady, having to remind himself that he wasn’t fleeing from anyone, and it wasn’t long until he started to hear footfalls behind him. By the time he could see his Jeep - a newer Wrangler he’d bought after arriving on the west coast - up ahead, the person behind him had almost caught up to him.

“Stiles?”

Stiles knew that voice. It was one he hadn’t heard in quite a few years, but he’d recognize it anywhere. He pulled up, slowing to a jog to let the other man catch up to him as they approached the parking area.

“Oh my god, it is you!”

With a nod, Stiles dropped back to a walk and glanced over at a stunned Jordan Parrish.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said as he started to pace the length of the parking area, letting his muscles cool down as he caught his breath. Beside him, Parrish did the same.

“I - I didn’t know you were back. The sheriff didn’t say anything.” Parrish barely sounded winded.

“I asked him not to tell anyone,” Stiles admitted. He turned and started back toward the end of the trail, not necessarily wanting to elaborate. Thankfully, Parrish was a quick study.

“I get it,” he said softly, still keeping pace with Stiles. “You want to do it on your own terms. I won’t say anything to anyone.” Stiles heard the unspoken promise in those words. I won’t tell Scott. He turned to find Parrish watching him as they walked, a look of sincerity on his face.

“Thanks, Parrish. I appreciate that.”

“It’s Jordan,” he replied with an easy smile. “We’re off the clock, and we’ve definitely known each other long enough to be on a first name basis.”

Stiles relaxed a little and offered a grin of his own. “Yeah, we have, haven’t we?” He turned again, this time to walk over to the far side of the parking area, where a shiny orange Tacoma sat next to his Wrangler. Stiles snorted as he grabbed a towel from his Jeep. “Nice truck. What do they call that shade of orange?”

Jordan let out a laugh, opening the passenger door to pull out a towel of his own, as well as a bottle of water and what looked like a light blanket. “Inferno.”

“Seriously?” Stiles huffed as he ran the towel over his face and neck.

“I swear. Drove by the dealership every damn day for four months with that thing calling to me before I finally caved and bought it.”

“It was meant to be, man.” Stiles reached back into the Jeep for his water bottle. He took a long pull from it before resting it against his cheek. The condensation felt heavenly against his overheated skin.

“I’m going to stretch out a little.” Jordan held up the blanket. “You’re welcome to join me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles agreed. He followed Jordan back across the end of the trail to a small, flat clearing under the trees. Jordan shook out the blanket and spread it out before sitting down near the edge to take off his socks and shoes. Stiles followed suit, and he couldn’t help giving Jordan a once-over as they got situated at opposite sides of the blanket.

The years had definitely been kind to Jordan Parrish, who was probably about 34 years old, if Stiles was doing the math right. He looked a little more rugged than he had when Stiles left, with a few more laugh lines around his eyes, a forehead that was a bit higher, and some hints of silver in his morning stubble. Like Stiles, he was wearing mid-length running shorts and a tank top, and it was obvious he still worked out regularly.

Back in high school, Stiles hadn’t really thought of Jordan as anything other than his dad’s young deputy-turned-hellhound. And there was the whole thing with the Dread Doctors and the Wild Hunt and Stiles fucking vanishing. By the time it was all over, he wasn't thinking of anything outside of surviving and getting the hell out of Beacon Hills.

College had changed Stiles, though. He’d explored his bisexuality, he’d become more confident in himself, and he’d come to discover that he had a “type” when it came to men - well-built, reasonably muscular, great smile, someone who could be both beautiful and ruggedly handsome at the same time. And damn, but this older version of Jordan Parrish was hitting all of those buttons, hard.

“What?” Jordan asked as he spread his legs and started stretching, giving Stiles a knowing smirk.

And well, Stiles definitely wasn’t looking for a relationship in Beacon Hills, not by any means. Still, he wasn’t going to shy away from some flirting, especially when it looked like Jordan was more than okay with the attention.

“You look good.” Stiles held the eye contact and mirrored Jordan’s stretches.

“So do you. All that time away, and the training you put in...it looks good on you.” He smiled, and Stiles returned it.

As they cycled through various stretches, they fell into an easy conversation about Stiles’ training, both in college and at Quantico.

“I really haven’t had to use the defensive tactics outside of training,” Stiles said as they finished up. He reached for his water bottle and took a long drink. “I mean, I’m cyber, so most of my work is online.”

“You don’t look like you sit at a desk all day.” And okay, flirty Jordan was back. Stiles wiped some water from his upper lip with his thumb, and Jordan’s eyes followed the movement.

“I stay in shape. Still have standard physical evals.” He paused, debating with himself about how much to reveal. “And I have to keep up with the rest of the pack.”

To Stiles’ surprise, Jordan just nodded. “Derek’s pack.”

“How’d you know that?” The sheriff knew, but Stiles doubted he’d shared the information with anyone else.

“Derek and I have a mutual friend.” Jordan shifted so he was sitting closer to Stiles, pulling his knees up. “He put me in touch with someone who could help me with my control. I - I learned a lot about who I was and what I could do. Sharpened my skills.”

Stiles gaped at him, stunned. Derek hadn’t said a word to him about being in touch with anyone from Beacon Hills.

Jordan gave him a sheepish shrug, answering Stiles’ unspoken question. “I didn’t want him to tell anyone. I just - it took a long time for me to be okay with what I was. A really long time.” He glanced away, and Stiles got the feeling Jordan still wasn’t completely comfortable sharing his skin with a hellhound.

“You’ll get there,” Stiles said softly, nudging Jordan’s bare foot with his own. “It took me awhile to get over...everything.” The Nogitsune. The Dread Doctors. The Wild Hunt. “Derek helped me find someone, too. I mean, it’s not like you can just Google shrinks who know about the supernatural.”

Jordan huffed out a laugh. “And you ended up joining his pack.” When Stiles nodded, Jordan cocked his head at him. “I didn’t think he was an alpha anymore.”

“He wasn’t, or at least not the last time you saw him. It happened in South America.” Jordan’s eyes got a little wider, and Stiles hurried to clarify. “He didn’t have to kill another alpha or anything. He won’t tell anyone the whole story, but it had something to do with evolving and with the fact that he’d given up his alpha spark to save Cora’s life. I guess it was kind of like the true alpha thing, but…” He trailed off, trying to find a way to explain without mentioning Scott. “You know, for someone who actually deserved it.”

Jordan nodded. “He made a sacrifice worthy of a true alpha.”

“Exactly. And once the pack elders helped him work through everything from the past, he actually wanted to be an alpha again. He wanted to take responsibility for the people he’d turned, and for Cora.”

“And you.”

“And me.”

Thankfully, Jordan didn’t ask why Stiles was in Derek’s pack instead of Scott’s. He did ask about the pack, about how Derek and Isaac were doing, and about the two members he didn’t know - Cora and Jackson. Stiles told him about their move back to California and how they were settling in before following it up with the Cliffs Notes versions of Cora’s and Jackson’s stories. Jordan remembered learning about the kanima when he was trying to find out what he was, but he didn’t really know anything about Jackson.

“So it was Lydia’s love that brought him back to himself?”

“It was.” Stiles sighed, absently rubbing his thumb over the seam of his shorts. “I mean, compared to Jackson, you and I were just blips on Lydia’s radar.”

Jordan leaned into Stiles’ space, bumping their shoulders together. “So, was I ever a blip on your radar back then?”

Stiles considered the question a moment before shaking his head. “Gotta be honest, man. There was way too much shit going on in those days for me to even think about exploring the idea that I was bi. I didn’t even realize that was a thing until right before you showed up.”

Jordan gave him a long look, one corner of his mouth curled up in a small smile. “But you have explored it since then?”

“Oh, thoroughly,” Stiles said with a laugh. Jordan grinned back at him, and something in Stiles’ stomach clenched. He leaned a little closer, gaze still locked with Jordan’s. “So, since we’re asking...was I on your radar?”

“No,” Jordan answered, a little too quickly. At Stiles’ disbelieving look, Jordan shook his head. “Oh, come on! You were the underage son of my boss, who, oh by the way, was also the county sheriff.”

“Jordan.” Stiles fixed him with a pointed stare.

“What?”

“Jordan.”

“Shit.” Jordan ran a hand through his hair, still a little sweat damp. “Okay, I thought you were, uh, cute. You had - have - the most beautiful eyes. But you weren’t even out of high school.”

“Neither was Lydia.”

“Asshole,” Jordan laughed, giving Stiles a playful shove, and yeah, that was definitely a move if Stiles ever saw one. He leaned back into Jordan’s space.

“You know...I haven’t been underage in a really long time.”

Jordan’s eyes raked slowly up and down Stiles’ body, and his gaze darkened. “I can see that.” He hooked two fingers in the front of Stiles’ tank top and reeled him in slowly, giving him plenty of time to pull away. Stiles pushed forward instead, closing the distance. The kiss was amazing, better than he expected, slow and deep and hungry, and he got lost in it. Lost in the feeling of Jordan’s hand slipping around to the back of his neck and the tongue pushing into his mouth.

One of his own hands went to Jordan’s hip and rolled him just far enough so Stiles could lean over him. Jordan groaned into his mouth and hooked a leg over one of Stiles’ to pull them even closer together. And yeah, if the manhandling wasn’t enough to get Stiles hard, the nudge of Jordan’s own half-hard cock against his thigh definitely did the trick.

“Oh, fuck,” Stiles breathed when they finally came up for air. Jordan was panting a little harder than he should have been, his head down, forehead nearly resting on Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles brought a hand up to cup the back of Jordan’s neck, scratching lightly over the damp hair at his nape. “Hey, you okay?”

Jordan nodded and rolled his hips just enough to be convincing. He lifted his head and brought Stiles in for another kiss, shifting to line up their erections. Stiles moaned and thrust against him. He slipped a hand under Jordan’s shirt, only to find his skin feverishly hot. It startled him enough to pull away from Jordan’s mouth, and Jordan’s hips stuttered to a stop under his.

“Jordan,” Stiles started, breathing hard, “not that I want to stop, because I really don’t, but I have to ask…” He trailed off, letting the unspoken question hang in the heated air between them.

Jordan finally looked up at him, a bit of apprehension mixing with the desire in his green eyes. “I haven’t - not since before Afghanistan.”

Stiles gaped at him, even as his fingers glided over Jordan’s stomach in what he hoped was a comforting rhythm. “Really?”

“When I got back, I was just adjusting to being out of the Army. Then I got the job and moved here, and you know the rest.” He dropped a kiss at the corner of Stiles’ mouth. “I’m not sure what might happen, and I didn’t want to take a chance with someone who doesn’t know what I am.”

Stiles pulled him in for another kiss, the hand that was on Jordan’s stomach slipping between them to palm Jordan’s cock. Jordan cried out against Stiles’ lips, his own hand fisted in the back of Stiles’ shirt.

“I know what you are,” Stiles reminded him, still close enough that his lips brushed against Jordan’s. “How’s your control?”

“Perfect,” Jordan gasped, “in most situations. This...I - I’ll be okay. I won’t hurt you. As long as…” He trailed off, lust-darkened eyes drifting over Stiles’ face.

“As long as what?” Stiles toyed with the waistband of Jordan’s shorts.

“I, uh, get pretty overheated when I jerk off. How hot do you like it?”

Stiles couldn’t help chuckling at that, a low rumble that made Jordan’s eyes widen. “Try me and find out.”

Jordan’s green eyes flashed orange for just a second, and before Stiles realized it was happening, he was flat on his back on the blanket with Jordan straddling his hips. Jordan pushed his own shorts and briefs down below his balls and gave his hard cock a few long pulls, his gaze fixed on Stiles’ face. Stiles whined and, not to be outdone, shoved his shorts and underwear down to mid-thigh. Jordan’s eyes immediately went to Stiles’ erection, and a growl escaped from deep in his chest, just loud enough to remind both of them that he shared his body with a shapeshifter.

“You should probably take this off.” Stiles tugged at the hem of Jordan’s shirt, and he stripped it off in one smooth movement before leaning down over Stiles, holding himself up with one arm. It should have been awkward, but before Stiles really had a chance to think about it, he was thoroughly distracted by Jordan licking his own palm. “Fuck, that’s hotter than it should be.”

“Not yet,” Jordan breathed, wrapping his hand around both of their dicks, drawing a low moan out of Stiles. “But it will be soon.”

Stiles could only stare, mouth agape, as Jordan jacked them off. It felt amazing, a little too much friction at first, but god, it had been so long, and Stiles was leaking enough precome to slick the way pretty quickly. He shoved his shirt up to just below his chin to get it out of the way before things got inevitably messy.

Panting above him, Jordan squeezed his eyes shut. As soon as he did, Stiles started feeling the heat building everywhere - from the hand wrapped around them, from Jordan’s body above him, in the air that surrounded them. It was so much better than Stiles could have expected. Instead of making him too hot, the warmth enveloped him and spread through every muscle in his body. It was soothing and arousing at the same time, like nothing Stiles had felt before.

He slid a hand up into Jordan’s hair and tugged him down into a long, lusty kiss. When Jordan pulled away, he opened his eyes, and Stiles saw the beautiful natural green around his blown pupils instead of the orange he almost expected.

“Stiles,” Jordan moaned, his body going taut as he came unexpectedly, hot splashes hitting Stiles’ chest and stomach. His head hung down, and the arm that was holding all of his weight started to shake.

“Let me,” Stiles managed to choke out, moving his own hand down to wrap around their dicks so Jordan could hold himself up with both arms. As Stiles started to thrust into his own hand, Jordan leaned down low over Stiles’ chest and ran his tongue, hot and rough, over one of Stiles’ nipples. That was enough to push Stiles over the edge, and he came with a shout, his body going rigid under Jordan.

The warmth that still surrounded them lulled Stiles into a state of post-orgasmic bliss. He sank into it for several minutes, barely noticing when Jordan used his own discarded shirt to clean them off or when he shifted to lay down beside him, pulling Stiles’ shorts back up as far as he could.

“Stiles.” Jordan’s voice was a little rough, deeper than usual. Stiles groaned and shook his head. He still wasn’t sure what to make of what had just happened, but he knew he wanted to do it again, preferably more than once. “Stiles?”

“Hmm?”

“We can’t go to sleep here.”

Stiles sighed and opened his eyes to find Jordan’s stupidly beautiful face just inches from his. “I know.” He brushed his lips over Jordan’s and grinned at him. “Fuck, that was awesome.”

Jordan’s eyes lit up and he smiled back, open and maybe a little relieved. “I’m glad you thought so.”

Stiles cocked an eyebrow at him. “You mean you didn’t? Not for nothing, buddy, but I think your dick would beg to differ.”

“Oh my god, Stiles.” Jordan laughed softly against Stiles’ shoulder. “I - I was a little worried.” The hint of doubt in his voice was enough to bring Stiles the rest of the way around.

“Hey, you don’t need to be.” He traced Jordan’s jaw with his index finger. “Seriously, that was amazing. And if it’s okay with you, I’d really like to do it again sometime, hopefully soon. And preferably indoors.”

Jordan swallowed audibly, and there was a shine to his eyes for just a moment before he blinked it away. “Yeah. That's more than okay with me.” He pushed himself up, then helped Stiles sit up beside him.

Stiles leaned against him, hand resting on Jordan’s thigh. “First, though, I think I’m gonna need some food, and maybe a nap.”

“My place?” Jordan asked, giving Stiles’ fingers a squeeze. “I can make us pancakes, or bacon and eggs. I’m good at breakfast.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

After a few minutes of just sitting in comfortable silence, Jordan stood and pulled Stiles up with him. They got their things together pretty quickly, and Stiles couldn’t help reeling Jordan in for another deep kiss before they parted.

As Stiles followed Jordan’s truck out of the preserve, so many thoughts tumbled around in his head. He was still having a hard time believing just how good it had felt to be with Jordan, how safe he felt in that warmth. He wasn’t particularly looking for a long-term relationship, though, and he didn’t know if Jordan was either. He tried not to get too caught up in thoughts of the future.

For the time being, he was content with the idea of hooking up with Jordan, being that person who knew what Jordan was and was still willing to be intimate with him, giving him the reassurance he’d need for whatever his future held.

If that future included a relationship with Stiles, then Stiles would be okay with that, and they'd figure out the details when they got there. If not, well...at least they’d enjoy themselves - and each other - in the meantime.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said instead, letting himself appreciate thegenuine concern in both Stiles’ tone and his scent. Derek wasn’t the only onewho’d changed. Stiles had been through so many things since the two of them hadfirst met, and yet he’d somehow managed to come out stronger. He’d justgraduated from college, and after spending part of the summer at home with hisdad and friends/pack, he’d decided to take Derek up on his offer of a place toget away from everything (namely, Beacon Hills itself) for a while.

Stiles had been staying with Derek for a little over a month, andthough there was something well beyond friendship happening between them - hadbeen for years, really - they were taking things fairly slowly.

“So, you still won’t tell me why we’re going to the overlook?”Stiles threaded the fingers of his free hand through Derek’s, squeezing gently.

“You’ll see.” Derek smiled in the dark, his own fingerstightening. He let his eyes glow briefly, the range of his own night visiongiving him a better view than the flashlight. He could just barely make out thesmall clearing that Stiles had dubbed ‘the overlook.’ It extended outwardbefore dropping off into the ravine that separated Derek’s property from theone on the other side, and the unobstructed view of the sky was stunning, dayand night.

They walked in silence until they reached the clearing. Derekreluctantly let go of Stiles’ hand before slipping the pack from his back andpulling out the contents. He unrolled the camping pad and spread it out on theground, then shook out a thin quilt and laid it on top, all while trying tokeep from being blinded by Stiles’ flashlight.

“Dude, seriously?” Stiles sounded completely confused. “We’re justgoing to chill out here? What if we get attacked by a skunk, or a porcupine, orsomething?”

“We’ll be fine,” Derek replied as he handed Stiles a blanket.“Wolves are pretty high up on the food chain.” He pulled his own blanket out ofthe pack before sitting down on one side of the pad and motioning for Stiles totake the spot beside him.

“Okay, so what’d you do, pee around the whole property to markyour territory or something?” Stiles flopped down beside Derek and pressed intohis side, tucking the flashlight between them so that they could see each otherin the darkness.

“They can just tell. I’ve run the borders fully shifted enoughtimes that they can smell my wolf.” He didn’t dare tell Stiles that he had, infact, pissed at the edges of the clearing more times than he cared to count,both shifted and not - not to mark his territory, but simply because he had togo. He’d never hear the end of it.

“Likely story,” Stiles muttered, but he dropped the subject infavor of continuing his interrogation. “So, are there fireworks in town orsomething?”

“No, no fireworks. I’m hoping for something even better.”

“Are we just going to sit here and look at the stars?”

“You could say that,” Derek murmured, hoping his plan for thenight wouldn’t be a complete bust. His wolf was definitely in sync with the moon,but with the stars? Not so much. Still, it felt right, and something deepinside of Derek reminded him that, no matter what the night sky had in storefor them, this was time that he and Stiles got to share, just the two of them.

Stiles seemed to be satisfied enough with Derek’s vague answer. Hewrapped his blanket around his shoulders and settled back in, plasteringhimself against Derek’s side. They sat in silence as minutes passed, and it wason the tip of Derek’s tongue to tell Stiles what he should be looking for, butthen he felt Stiles shiver against him. Even in the middle of August, it couldget a little chilly at night in the mountains, something Derek hadn’t reallyconsidered before they left the house. He ran warm enough that it rarely botheredhim, but Stiles was a whole different being, in more ways than one.

“Here, take my blanket,” he said into the silence, shaking out hisown folded blanket and draping it around Stiles’ shoulders. He let his armlinger along Stiles’ back, and Stiles leaned into him with a contented sigh.Taking that as a sign, Derek gave Stiles’ bicep a squeeze as he pulled theyounger man in even closer. “Better?”

“Much.” Stiles huffed out a soft laugh. “You’re not very subtle,you know. Bringing me out to look at the stars, giving me your blanket so youhave an excuse to put your arm around me. I’m on to you, Sweetwolf.”

Derek smirked at the nickname. “I didn’t think subtle was yourthing.”

“I’m not complaining.” Stiles turned a little and wrapped an armaround Derek’s back. He went still for a moment, and Derek turned his head intoStiles’ hair, breathing in the scent of him as he waited him out. “I - I reallylike it here, you know. I mean, look at me. I’m sitting outside in the pitchdark in the middle of the woods just outside of Nowheresville, and normally,I’d be really creeped out, right? You know, after everything…” He trailedoff, inhaling deeply through his nose. “But I feel safe here. With you. Like,not just here here, but your place in general.”

The words overwhelmed Derek, not only because there was no lie inthem, but because Stiles had just put into words what Derek himself had beenfeeling since moving to the property, and especially since Stiles had arrived.He felt calm, safe in a way he hadn’t for years, and he was finally able to lethis guard down. The nightmares that had plagued him for years had been reducedto the occasional bad dream, and when he awakened from one, he no longer had toresort to counting his fingers - a trick he’d learned from Stiles so long ago.He was able to ground himself in the call of the mockingbird outside hiswindow, or the sound of the breeze through the treetops, or more recently, thesteady beat of Stiles’ heart. The younger man had recently taken to slippinginto Derek’s bed late at night, which helped both of them immensely, thoughDerek still had a hard time admitting to himself that he might enjoy thecuddling even more than Stiles did.

“Oooo-kay,” Stiles said, his pulse ticking up just a bit. “And Imade thing awkward. Way to go, Stiles.”

“No,” Derek blurted, knowing that feeling all too well. “Youdidn’t. I just - I was thinking the same thing. That I feel safe here.” He tooka deep breath and forced out the rest of the thought. “Especially since you gothere.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Derek pulled back just far enough to look into Stiles’eyes in the dim light. “I found this place, and it helped me…find myself, Iguess.” It sounded corny, and Derek cringed inside, but Stiles just looked athim with a deep understanding. He swallowed, his voice dropping to a nearwhisper. “Then you showed up, and everything felt right for once in my life.”Stiles gaped at him, and Derek felt himself blush. “Now who’s making thingsawkward.”

Stiles shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” BeforeDerek could put together what Stiles meant, the younger man’s lips were on his.It was a soft kiss, not unlike others they’d shared in recent days, butsomething about it felt even more perfect. When they finally parted, Stilesnuzzled into Derek’s neck, and it warmed something deep inside of Derek. “So,did you really bring me out here to woo me? Because it’s working.”

Derek breathed a laugh into Stiles’ hair, then gazed back up atthe sky. Sure enough, within a minute, he saw a flash of light streak acrossthe heavens. “That’s only part of the reason,” he finally answered. “Look up.”

“Huh?” Stiles stirred and pushed himself up far enough to tilt hishead back, looking up at the starry sky above them. “Okay, what am I - whoa!”He jumped, his arm going tight around Derek. “Holy shit, did you seethat?”

“I did.” Derek leaned in to press a kiss to Stiles’ temple beforeturning his attention back to the sky. Stiles was now watching intently,sitting as still as Derek had ever seen him, and he was rewarded for his efforta few minutes later.

“There’s another one. Are you freaking kiddingme?” He turned wide eyes on Derek, who couldn’t help grinning at him.

“Perseid meteor shower,” he said simply. “I figured this would bea good vantage point.”

Stiles gave him a soft smile. “Yeah, this is the best.” He leanedback into Derek’s side, a little shiver running through him. The blankets hadpooled around Stiles’ waist during their impromptu makeout session, and Derekreached down to pull them back up, wrapping them around their shoulders withStiles’ help. Stiles curled into Derek’s warmth, and Derek held him as they satand watched the sky, making soft noises of awe every time they saw anothermeteor.

As Stiles snuggled into him, it hit Derek that, in that moment,there was nowhere he’d rather be, and no one with whom he’d rather be sharinghis time.

He was in love with Stiles.

He’d probably known for a long time, but the realization didn’taffect him the same way it would have years ago. Instead of being caught offguard by it or scared of what might happen to Stiles, the understanding that hewas in love with the younger man simply settled Derek even more.

A small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, Derek tuckedhis face into Stiles’ neck and inhaled deeply. Stiles hummed and tilted his headto give Derek better access. Derek’s lips traced a path up to a spot on Stiles’jaw, just in front of his ear.

“So,” he whispered, “better than fireworks?”

Stiles laughed softly, his fingers tickling Derek’s side throughhis shirt. “Well, I love fireworks, but…not gonna lie, this is totally betterthan fireworks.”

And as they sat there, cuddling under blankets as the occasionalmeteor flared across the sky above them, both of them at peace, Derek couldonly agree.